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azurlily · 1 year

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Day 5 of 31 of the yandere month May challenge. This yandere is scary in a sense, but this is very fluffy!! Well, more creppy and fluffy not really yandere just kinda fucked up in a sense.

Merlin comforts you after you've been having a bad day...bad things just keep happening!

If you want to support me or ask for a male commission only character press THIS LINK or go to my page and scroll down until you see the post on commission rules.

Yandere!Merlin(Gluttony) FLUFF

The worst day ever. You've had the worst day ever, in your entire life! Your parents(who are usually very calm) have been yelling at you. They don't believe you being friends with the sins is okay. They worry for your safety.

Your now ex girlfriend and you had a fight. The two of you broke up and now you went to the only person you trust as of current- Merlin.

"Oh? Why hello there, darling. I've been meaning to talk to you- why are you crying?"

Merlin saw your tear stained cheek and practically ran to coddle you. She finds others pain funny, and quite enjoyable. You on the other hand, she hates, absolutely detests seeing you in pain. Be it mental, emotional, or physical pain, it is pain nonetheless.

She asks what's wrong and tries her best to make you feel better. She's never been all that great with emotions, but meeting you changed that. She works her best to make you smile. Even if some missing heads turn up every once and a while.

She tries talking you down, her laboratory isn't the best place for this. It isn't good for anything emotion related. What you need is a warm comfortable bed. Luckily she can provide.

She took you to the Boar Hat, while the sins aren't exactly hated by the kingdom, they aren't fully trusted either. She had her own little room, everything she needs...plus a few pictures of you.

She lay you down on her bed; Merlins room looks a lot different from everyone else's. Shes had time to fully customize everything. Magic is quite useful in times like this.

She watches you, puffy eyed and tear streaks. She blushes seeing you all worked up, she wishes she could work you up like that. Seeing you all flustered as she peppers kisses to you face- a dream come true.

She sits on the bed and watches you slowly take in your surroundings. You'd been paying little attention until now, and now, you didn't know what to do.

"Hello little rabbit. Are you feeling better now?"

You couldn't really answer, you felt so drowsy, so very tired. Instead you layed your head on Merlins shoulder. You didn't move and Merlin had no idea what to do. She sat there for a good minute before laying down, you body pressed against hers.

The two of you payed on the bed in complete silence. Warm, and cozy, neither of you wanted to let go of the other. You were having a bit of a hard time focusing because of where you head ended up. You head had moved from Merlins shoulder fo her chest, pressed right into her.

In didn't say anything and instead layed there with a bright pink face. At some point Merlins noticed your body heat going up and decided, you seem well enough to talk.

"So...what exactly happened, little rabbit? You were balling your eyes out, did someone hurt you?"

You nodded against your chest, your heart constricting as you thought about your day. You told her everything, about your fight with your ex girlfriend and with your parents. You felt tears again and you just clung to Merlin like a baby.

"I see. It'll all be better soon, your parents have been blindsided, and that girl never deserved you. You'll flourish without her, I promise."

Merlin rocked you back and forth. It had been so long since she'd displayed such affection with anyone. In private or public, she was beginning to become addicted fo the feeling. The feeling of your hot tears on her skin and she calmed you down, talked you through your problems.

It was electric, something shes never felt before.

"How about you...sleep."

Merlins words enchanted you. You fell into a deep slumber, only to wake up when she saw to it. While you feel asleep into a dream she created, she's going to take care of your problems. Her way.

"Ah, so the girls name is Carol...hm. Well she'll be dead by dawn, so it doesn't matter to me. As for her parents though, that'll be tricky. I cant kill them, but I can persuade them to 'calm down'."

She did just that, she found a lovely little dimension of flesh eating plants and threw your ex girlfriend in there. As for your parents.

"Hello, Mr and Mrs. [Last Name], I'm [Name] so to be wife. I'd like to spare a bit fo your time. Oh, you know who I am? Well that just makes this easier for me."

When you woke up you saw Merlin working on something. You couldn't quote tell what it was, but it seemed interesting. You groggily stood up and tried walking to her, but failed and fell into her arms.

She laughed. She wanted to catch you mid air and make you float, but seeing as you'd recently woke up, that wouldn't be very nice. She looks down at you with a smile you've never seen before. It was kinder than her past ones.

"I have something for you."

She hands you a golden ring. The words Property of Gluttony written in deep purple. You blushed, was this her proposing or a promise ring? You just left your old relationship it was too soon.

"This is the ring for our marriage in advance. I'm courting you, cherub. I have been, seeing as you and your past lover are done with, I thought I'd put my hat in the ring. Do you accept it?"

Of course you do. Why wouldn't you? It's not like a deep haze fell over you making you wonder if you were in control. No! You are most definitely into Merlin and this isn't a weird spell.

"Oh- really, cherub? Thank you! This is the best gift I could have ever been given...well exept your hand in marriage, but that can wait."

She gently kisses your forehead and leads you out of the room.

#lesbian #wlw #seven deadly sins #merlin x reader #gluttony #gluttony x reader #seven deadly sins gluttony #fluff #yandere month challenge #yandere gluttony #yandere gluttony x reader

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kinkalot · 8 months

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Bonus Challenge #2 - Kink Link

The second of our Kinkalot 2023 Bonus Challenges - this challenge is open to EVERYONE.

Welcome to Week 2, Kinkalotians! If you’ve always wanted to participate in the infamous Kink Link but couldn’t because you weren’t signed up, well, this is your chance. That’s right, it’s time for our old fan favourite from @pornalot, but with a fresh, new Kinkalot twist! And this year everyone who wants to can join in and link your kinks! Rather than assigning you a prompt ourselves, this time we’re going to let you build your own, like a porntastic game of mad libs. Your entry for this week must incorporate a toy from Column A, an act from Column B, and an Alternate Universe from Column C. That’s TOY + ACT + AU = PROMPT. Sounds simple? Just wait until you get started… For the kinks you need to link and an explanation of the challenge, head on over to this post. REMINDER: This challenge is open to EVERYONE. You don’t need to be a participant of the fest to join in. So if this challenge has turned your head, why not come along and share your entry over on our LJ Post / Over in our Bonus Challenge channel on our Discord server (18+ only)!

#merlin #merlin fests #merlin fanart #merlin fanfic #kinkalot #kinkalot 2023 #merlin prompt challenge #kinkalot: bonus challenge 2 #bonus challenge #bonus challenge 2

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oneirataxia-girl · 6 months

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oc halloween challenge 2023 ⇝ day twenty

The Trees Have Eyes ft. Lynelda

As the resident strange girl of the town, Lynelda is expected to like taking walks in the woods. The thing is, she doesn't. Lynelda doesn't like the way the thick canopy of leaves blocks out the sun, doesn't like the way the dirt and muck stick to her boots when she trudges in search of some mushrooms to add to her supper, and most of all, she doesn't like the way the hair on the back of her neck stands up when she enters the forest. Nothing dangerous would live so near the heart of Camelot, nothing that had a silver of intelligence, at least; the druids come to gather herbs and exchange information, but she was on friendly terms with them, so it wasn't the protectors of nature she had to look out for. But Lynelda's instincts have never failed her before, so the question still remains... whose eyes are lurking in the trees?

the enabler's call: @arrthurpendragon @hiya-itsamber @carmens-garden @daughter-of-melpomene @bibaybe @darth-caillic -- want to be added? shoot me an ask!!

#i actually think i shall put this in the actual fic #im so late on the challenges its not funny omg #this marks the end of the moodboarding #i'll miss not having to think of a medium to use lol #oc: lynelda #fic: a gift of a flame #alvita's edits #ohc2023 #ocapp #ocappreciation #allaboutocs #bbc merlin oc #fyeahocsofcolor #pococs #ochub

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eddiediaaz · 8 months

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@lgbtqcreators bingo challenge: free choice

BBC MERLIN 2.13 ✽ The Last Dragonlord

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suugarbabe · 9 months

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Saving Grace

[Chapter 1]

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: You're caught in a pinch and Mattheo is quick to lend a helping hand, but you might have bitten off more than you can chew

Warnings: none

You turned the corner quickly, pressing your back against the wall to catch your breath. You had been speed walking down the hall trying to get away from Adrian Pucey. You had let him down, at minimum, three times in the last two weeks. You felt like you had been pretty forward with your denials, but Merlin was that little weasel persistent. Maybe he just didn’t get denied that often, I mean, he wasn’t ugly by normal beauty standards. But his personality was that of dragon dung. He had stopped you after potions the first week of classes, telling you how “nice your uniform fit this year” and it took all the strength you had not to gag in his face. He asked if you wanted to sit with him at lunch; you politely declined and then spent your lunch hour in the library for safe measure. Later last week he caught you after dinner, asking if you wanted to go to Hogsmead with him. Again, you declined, telling him you had to catch up on reading that you put off during the summer and swiftly walked away from him before he could ask to keep you company.

The worst was earlier this week. You had successfully avoided him all weekend, even managing to go to Hogsmead with your friends for a few things without running into him. You weren’t sure if maybe he had actually seen you out, or maybe someone else had mentioned seeing you, but after potions that morning you tried to leave and quickly head to your next class when you were suddenly pushed against the wall. Adrian had you trapped with his arms on either side of your head. He said it felt like you’d been avoiding him. You told him he was right and that he couldn’t take a hint. He laughed, like you were challenging him to get closer. As soon as you noticed him trying to lean in to you, you mumbled a quiet depulso, causing his body to leap several feet away from you before running off to charms.

That led you to your predicament today. Back pressed against the wall around the corner, waiting for the moment you needed to start running. You heard Adrian’s voice down the hall and quickly pushed off from where you were resting and headed down the corridor you had turned. You had made it almost down the end of the hall when you heard him call out your name. You didn’t turn around, scanning the faces passing through for anyone even semi-recognizable to help you, or hide you, anything at this point. Just then, you saw what could be your saving grace turn the corner: Mattheo Riddle. He was in your house, but you and he did not hang in the same circle. You knew if Adrian was going to be intimidated by anyone, it was Mattheo. The entire school knew of his reputation, how accurate it was you had deemed irrelevant as long as it got Pucey off your back.

You walked up to him quickly, grabbing his sleeve and pulling him to the side speaking quickly, “I don’t know if you know my name, but it’s Y/n. I know this is weird and I don’t expect you to help me but Adrian Pucey has been pestering me for the last two weeks and the git cannot take a fucking hint and now he’s looking for me again and I know he’s just right behind me, I heard him, can you just please pretend like you’re talking to me or give him one of those glares you do that make people not talk to you or something?” Mattheo’s grin grew wider with each word that came out of your mouth.

“I know who you are, Y/n,” He started, looking over your shoulder noticing Pucey scan the crowd again, “He’s getting closer. You want me to shout at him or just glare?” You took a step closer to Mattheo, trying to hide yourself, if possible, “Glare please.” At that moment Pucey clocked you, brows furrowed seeing who you were standing with. He walked quickly up to you, reaching out to grab your shoulder. Mattheo quickly slapped his hand away, glaring at the boy, “Fuck off, Pucey. She’s busy, clearly.” Adrian eyed you suspiciously, “Since when do you hang out with Riddle, Y/n?” You looked from Adrian’s face up to Mattheo’s, trying to find a convincing answer. Mattheo’s eyes never left Pucey, answering without missing a beat, “It’s none of your fucking business what she does, or who she talks to. What are you, her handler?” Adrian scoffed, opening his mouth to speak but Mattheo cut him off again, “Oh no, that’s right, you’re just the prick that’s been pestering her since the beginning of classes. How many times does a pretty girl have to let you down before you take a hint?”

With that, Mattheo wrapped his arm around your shoulder, leading you down the hall and leaving Pucey staring, mouth agape and completely dumbfounded. Mattheo glanced over his shoulder, noticing Pucey still watching. He moved his arm from your shoulders down to wrap around your waist, pulling you a little closer to him as you walked. “Just for good measure,” he whispered, getting close to your ear. You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t race slightly at his movement, but you kept your face stoic.

There was no denying that Matteo was a handsome man. He had chestnut curls that seemed to fall in just the right place each day, bouncing when he walked. His eyes were multiple different shades of brown in one, easily mesmerizing any girl that he looked at. You knew plenty of girls that have fallen into his trap. Well, maybe trap wasn’t the best word, he did just help you willingly despite barely knowing you. He really had no reason to do that, and given his reputation, you’re honestly surprised he helped so effortlessly, even doing his best to make your simple walk away a little more intimate than just two friends.

You heard snapping in front of your face, making you blink a couple times before being able to refocus on Mattheo’s half turned smile in front of you, “You still with me, Y/n? You were in kind of a daze.” You nodded, “I’m fine, yeah, sorry. Just got lost in my thoughts a bit.” His smile turned into a smirk quickly, “Care to share?” You shook your head, “Not this time, Riddle. But thank you for earlier, and for walking me to class. I really do appreciate it. Who knew you had such a kind heart in here,” you patted his chest playfully, moving to walk past him and into your next class.

He was quick to grab your wrist, turning you around to face him once more, “You know there’s uh, a Slytherin party this weekend.” You smirked at him, “You know, being a fellow Slytherin myself, I’m aware of the party.” Mattheo scratched the back of his neck, almost like a nervous tick, “Yeah, right, aha. Erm, are you gonna be there?” You tilted your head slightly, feeling a little confident, “Do you want me to be there?” Mattheos cheeks had the slightest tint of pink, making you smile, “I’m just messing with you, I’ll likely be there.” Mattheo let out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Good, that’s uh, good. I was just asking because you know, Pucey is likely gonna be there so if you, uh, needed my assistance or anything…” He trailed off.

You gave this some thought, you mean, he wasn’t wrong. Adrian most definitely would be at the party as a Slytherin himself; he kind of got a guaranteed invite unfortunately. “You’re right, I probably will need you again,” Mattheo seemed a little surprised at your words, “maybe we should have a chat then, make some ground rules in case he does try to come up to me again, little bugger is fucking persistent.” You nodded, confirming your words to yourself, “Okay, want to meet in the library tomorrow before dinner? Come up with a plan or something?” He nodded, throwing a wink toward you as he walked away backwards, “Yeah, okay. Tomorrow, I’ll see you then, Princess.” You shook your head, turning back to class and finding your seat. You sat down, putting your head on your desk. Your thoughts were racing, what did you just get yourself into.

[chapter 2]

#harry potter #golden era #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle fic #mattheo riddle x you #theordore nott #lorenzo birkshire #y/n harry potter #theodore nott x reader #draco malfoy x reader

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14thgalerie · 7 months

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the one

• pairing: theodore nott x riddle!reader

• now playing: hayloft by mother mother / you that i want by divine

• word count: 1.7k

• genre: angst, fluff, hint of smut

— short one that i kept thinking of.

Theo slumped in his chair, fatigue weighing heavily on him. The clock on the wall opposite him ticked relentlessly, unforgiving of his sleepless state. He had long abandoned any hope of finding any rest. He hadn’t been able to since that fateful night when everything felt right in his life.

His mind wouldn’t grant him solace. Each time his weary eyelids dared to meet from the pure exhaustion of the stress of OWLS, the ongoing war, his brain kept feeding him images of you. You, who kept haunting him from the very forefront of his mind.

The natural curve of your eyelashes. The way it fluttered against his cheeks as your lips made a blazing trail across his cheeks. Gentle whispers that drown him in sheer bliss still send shivers down his spine.

His tie lay abandoned, discarded beside him, next to the pile of papers swept aside in his frustration earlier. The long, emerald fabric had felt too suffocating amidst the overwhelming thoughts of you.

He couldn’t help but wonder if you would also be writhing in bed, unable to fall asleep as he does. Would your dreams torment you with the brief time his hands tangled onto your hair, wayward? Does your dormant body spin cruel variations of that time, telling him tantalising tales of what could’ve occurred if only your insufferable blonde companion hadn’t so abruptly interrupted?

He had never loved you.

Not in the way you wanted.

This desire to fill the emptiness in your heart, to have somebody give you the time and day has obscured that truth. A part of you knew, from the very beginning, but this desperation forced you to turn yourself blind.

Draco was there, a constant presence in your life, a perfect match to have by your side. Born only 24 hours apart, and 10 years of your childhood spent solely with him.

In truth, you both used the other, a fact that you ignored. He relied on you for protection and status as your partner, while you clung to him to feel the fleeting sense of warmth. But the perpetual storm of reality always wearing you both down and, you were rapidly losing the strength to keep yourself afloat.

Unspoken words hung heavy in the air between the both of you as the year progressed and the inevitable return of your father neared. At first, you had both kept your feelings at bay, not wanting this to jeopardise your friendship altogether. But as time went on, it became a routine. Venom spit from raised voices, threats of abandonment and indifference to each other, reconciliation accompanied by hollow promises and sex.

“Are you a bloody fool? She is my best friend and yet again, Draco ‘can’t-keep-his-boxers-on’ Malfoy decided that didn’t matter!” You screamed in frustration, but it didn’t seem to matter when he didn’t even so much as falter at the volume.

“We aren’t even together, so why should it?” He carelessly replies, an air of indifference surrounding him.

“We aren’t? You truly are an insufferable git, I spent two years committing myself to you, and you never thought to mention that little detail before?” You scoffed, incredulous at the idea. It was foolish and outrageous, and not at all like how the man you know would think. Despite your differences with one another, he would still treat you with at least the respect you give to a friend, but now…

“Oh please! Don’t act as if your mind has not been completely filled with that mindless buffoon.”

“For Merlin’s sake, do not dare turn this on me…” You challenged him.

“Or what? Threaten to have your father kill me? Well, surprise, darling, I’m no stranger to that already.” He humorlessly chuckles. “I’ve seen you. I’ve seen that god-awful lovesick look on your face at the mere sight of his back. I am not the complete bloody fool you think I am.”

It hurt, truly, despite the fact that this started as a hilarious excuse of a relationship. You cared for Draco and to see him constantly destroy everything and everyone in his path of destruction left you unable to conjure up any more excuses for him.

“I am done, Draco. We can stop whatever awful pretentious act we put ourselves to and live on our own as you seem to hardly care for even yourself anymore these days.” You laugh, defeat etched on your face.

He never gave you the love that you sought, the kind that Theo had laid bare in complete display for you in just under seven minutes in that tiny closet.

“You came back to me.” He whispers, close enough for his lips to touch the corner of your lips but there’s just a stutter of breath. It makes you want to instinctively kneel and look up to him and beg religiously for mercy, the way he speaks.

“I did.” You reply. Unmoving, but your patience wears thin.

“Look at you,” He mutters, his hand tugging at your head by your hair, exposing your neck to him, and your knees nearly buckle at his breath that burns against your jaw. “I haven’t even touched you properly yet and you’re almost like putty in my hands already.”

“Shut it, Nott.” You quickly remark a decision you notably regret when you are left standing in the middle of the room all by yourself. The cold air from the ajar window left your skin tingling with an uncomfortable feeling akin to when Draco touched you in the past weeks.

You scoff, the sound more as if you were nearly pleading. “What are you doing?”

“You know I hate it when you act like a brat.” He inclined his head, and the movement leaves chills running through your spine for the action is almost similar to someone sinister. But weirdly, it makes you want to tease him even more.

“Oh please, Theo. I’m not blind, as if you don’t dream of it.” You slowly approach him, your fingers make a motion of dragging along the ends of the poster beds. “The way I see your eyes tremble when I contradict every single thing you say. I know you are depraved when your thoughts are only of my mouth…”

You hear a sharp intake of breath when you come near. “The way you would just love it if you could shut me up by having my lips wrapped around you. I know you, Theo.”

His lips twitch into a mirthless smile, he reaches almost mindlessly for your collar. His thumb barely touches the skin of your neck. “Yes, you do.”

His eyes are intense as they dart to your mouth. Your tongue unconsciously makes a sweep against your dry lips.

“I suppose Draco will show me exactly how.”

Taking a page of this man’s book is terrifying but you are tired of this game of tug that you keep playing.

“That would be wise. ”

He’s still looking at your lips.

“I’ll go then.” You try again, unwilling to make the move.

“Go on, you won’t hear a sound of protest from me.” But you remain standing in front of him, the will to move weak against the desire to have him.

“Really?”

“No.”

Theo grabs the back of your head, tangled his fingers in your hair, and made a mess of your mouth. With his lips attached to yours, you grab him by his shirt and the both of you kiss as if you were third years again. Your teeth clashed into each other time and time again and you couldn’t find it in you to slow down.

The need to kiss him, to feel what you’ve been thinking of for several nights on end. You push back at him, desperate to feel the same hunger and need in him, as he kisses you deeper and more profound than you ever thought possible.

The soft, selfish hands that you wished so badly to wipe clean off the bodies of other women move up from the bottom of your back to move you impossibly closer until you are almost one. His voice is ragged when he pulls away, a thin thread of saliva still connecting you.

He says against your cheek, “I love you. I’d die for you. Nobody can ever give you what I could make the pain go away like I could, not even that dense fuck who has a deeper sense of self-preservation than his parents.”

You swallow, agonised by the sudden slow pace that he moves. Not an ounce of energy dared to waste to defend your ex. “I will love you anywhere.”

You shiver at the raw and pure intensity that laced the declaration. You almost want to ask, to hear how. But you don’t think your mind could properly comprehend the ability to piece together the right words to ask.

His heart is pounding from beneath your fingers as you feel the pulse on his neck, almost leaping it out as if all it wants is for you to finally claim it as yours. Encase it in a glass case and put it on display for all else to see.

“In a bookstore, by the water fountain, the sidewalk, in the flames of your home.” His hands come down to your hips, his fingers digging in so harshly that by morning sunlight, purple will be painted on your skin but it feels so heavenly that you don’t push them away.

“I love you, not for the protection you provide and for your substantial looks, but for all the small things you do that bear your soul to me.”

Your hands meet around the back of his neck as he carries you by your thighs towards his bed. Pulling at the fabric that keeps him away from you.

“I’ll love you even as you tell me you hate me oranges. I love you enough that I will scour the face of this earth for a place where I can take you away from your nightmares.”

“I-“ He sighs into your lips, completely delighted by the intimacy that only his mind could conjure up in the lone nights. “I love you.”

You move for the buttons of his polo, while he moves to pull your shirt from you. A race that leaves you both fumbling when you feel his hand carving a path against your waist and up to your chest. You are left scalding, tiny bounces of light flickering in your eyes.

“I will be at your string’s end.”

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott smut

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shadowbriar · 10 months

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Regulus Black ‐ Jasmine, Lavender, and Poppy

Pairing : Regulus Black x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 0.6k Warning : Nothing, just pure fluff. Synopsis : Regulus made sure that she would never forget his scent ever again. Notes : My first blurb. Should I make more of these? If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

She remembers his scent well. That very special smell of oud and leather, something that portrays luxury and obscurity. Something that feels like home. Something that screams him— Regulus Arcturus Black.

But poking on Regulus has always been one of her most favourite things to do. Even before they were romantic, teasing him has always been second nature for her. His reactions have always brought her bliss. Their harmless banter is what fuels their day and it feels like the perfect time for her to pull the first taunt of the day.

"I don't smell you from the Amortentia," She lied, teasing her boyfriend whose brows are now pinched high from the offensive words she spilled "I smelled cinnamon, wet grass, and linen."

"Bullshit, I smelled you. There's no way you smelled someone else."

Shs shrugs, closing her textbook that hasn't been read ever since they entered the library, "Maybe you smelled wrong."

"I'm never wrong about these kinds of things."

"Yeah?" She challenges, propping her chin in the palm of her hand "What did you smell?"

"I smelled jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

"That doesn't smell like me. You're just listing random flowers."

Regulus raised an eyebrow, "Your perfume's base is jasmine. You drop a few lavender oil to your seal wax on all of our letters. Your garden is filled with poppies. You are jasmine, lavender, and poppy."

A smile blooms on her face. It was one thing to be satisfied by teasing your boyfriend and another to have him spelling the little details of you. Regulus has always been the observant party of the two, she just never realised how much of her he's taking notes of.

"Also, Love, your house is always decorated with those three flowers on every corner. You are what I smelled from Amortentia. You are my soulmate."

"Well, no one said Amortentia smells like your soulmate. They say it smells like someone you're attracted to so maybe that's why." She continues her scheme, concealing her blooming heart "Maybe I'm attracted to someone else now."

Regulus' brows rose higher, looking even more appalled at her words, "Are you being serious right now?"

She shrugs.

Regulus stood from his seat. Perhaps teasing him in the library when they're the last people there wasn't such a brilliant idea. Merlin knows what he might do now. Regulus might be a calm and collected person but wrong poke and you'll wake the fury inside him.

She started to inch away, pushing her seat back until it hit the wall, giving her no other space to escape. Regulus kneeled down, levelling to her eye level and eyes her deeply. His brows were still knitted in displease but his eyes were soft. Her plan to keep an aloof expression has evidently failed as a playful smile cracks on her lips, anticipating for his next move whilst praying that he wasn't genuinely angry.

"You're a menace." He says before kissing her.

Regulus pulled her chair closer, locking her in place as he put his hands on her sides. It wasn't like she's planning to leave, anyway. No one in their right mind would want to go when they're being kissed by him, especially with such an intimate and asserting position.

One hell of a man, Regulus is.

A victorious smile was plastered on her face when they pulled away. It was a short kiss. Just enough for him to prove to her just how wrong she is about the scents she's attracted to. Regulus knew that she was lying, that she was just trying to get his reaction, yet he complied with her charade anyway.

Regulus now stands from his position. He took off his robe, tossing it carelessly to the seat he occupied a couple minutes ago. He then takes off his jumper, making her cheeks burn from the sight. He surely knows how to keep her around.

"The library might not give you the best privacy if you're planning to go nude, Love." She comments.

Regulus rolls his eyes, handing her his jumper, "Wear it."

"Why?"

"So you won't ever forget my scent again."

#regulus black #regulus black fluff #regulus black fanfiction #regulus black fanfic #regulus black imagine #regulus black imagines #regulus black blurb #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x oc #regulus black scenario #regulus black scenarios

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jaeausten · 9 months

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He shouldn’t have picked up the gauntlet! So put an end to it. The challenge has been taken up. The fight can’t be stopped. Then fight in his place. I can’t. Why not? Owain picked up the gauntlet. He must fight. That is the Knight’s code. But it’s a fight to the death!

Morgana Pendragon in Merlin, 1.08- Excalibur.

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orqheuss · 10 months

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I would know him blind

(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?” *** You'd been with Ominis for some time, and as much as you loved your intimate times together, you wondered what it would be like to be in his shoes for a change. Your darling husband is more than happy to help you satiate your curiosity.

Word count: 4.6k

Tags: p n v sex, bondage, blindfolds, light bdsm, light dom/sub undertones, pet names, praise kink, ownership kink, corruption kink (just a lil bit), possessive!ominis, cunnilingus, established relationship, body worship, romantic sex

You loved your husband more than anything in this world. You had been with Ominis since your sixth year of Hogwarts, and even now, ten years later, you were still as thick as thieves. He supported your desire to teach at the school, even though you would be gone for days at a time and away from his comforting arms, and in turn you supported him and his work as an inventor, no matter how much time he spent locked away in his office. Through it all, you were a team. It was a truly happy marriage, one you would be perfectly content in until your dying day.

That being said, there were some aspects of your life that had gotten a bit…stale. Being together for so long led to some challenges with keeping things interesting. In this particular instance, your more intimate times were starting to become lackluster. It was still lovely whenever you two got together, but you longed for your husband to do something surprising. Ever since your first night together it had been the same routine, and you were, quite frankly, bored.

Not that you’d ever tell him that. Godrick’s heart!

Being a professor had its perks, one of which being access to the restricted section of the library at any hour of the day. No student is going to question a professor as to why they are out at such an hour, it would be absolutely balmy. Not that you didn’t miss the chaos of sneaking down there with one particular Sallow twin, but it was certainly nice to not fear the appearance of Peeves around any and all corners. On the nights that you slept at the castle, you’d been reading up on some things in the restricted section, and had learned some interesting changes to try in the bedroom that would hopefully intrigue the blond. Rather shockingly, the “Intimate Literature” section was…extensive. There were things in some of those books that you would have never thought of, even in your most raunchy dreams.

One particular thing caught your attention, both for the possibilities it held but also for the fact that it had been something you thought about before: seeing in the way that Ominis sees. The Gaunt man’s blindness was never a hindrance to him, nor to you, but it definitely intrigued you. Around the house, he mainly saw through his enchanted wand, the location charm showing him shapes and outlines so he is able to get to and fro. But in the bedroom, Ominis preferred to use his hands, and sometimes his mouth, to find his way up and down your body. His favorite pastime was finding out what made you tick, what made you whine, what made you scream— always the tinkerer, always curious.

As much as you loved him touching you, you wanted to know what it felt like when you touched him; no sight to help him know from what direction you were coming from or what you were going to do to him. One simple finger running down his chest would send his heart aflutter under your palm— your legs brushing against his would make him breathe heavy like you had taken all the air from his lungs. He once described it to you as feeling everything the earth could possibly give you but so much more. It looked electric, and Merlin, you wanted to be shocked all over.

So, the only logical way for this to happen was for you to be blindfolded.

All you had to do was convince your husband, and you knew exactly how to do it.

The always busy blond was locked away in his office when you enacted your plan. You knocked gently on the door, waiting patiently for his word to enter. Upon his muffled, “come in” sauntered into the room, your steps precise and your hips swaying like a dancer. He sensed something different in your posture right away, his ears perking up slightly as he took in the soft cadence of your steps. Leaning back in his office chair and silently activating his location charm, he watched you stalk closer to his desk like a lioness on the prowl. You were the picture of innocence— a slight hop in your step and your arms folded behind your back like a schoolgirl, and in that moment Ominis wanted nothing more than to pin you over his lap and corrupt you for hours. A wayward smirk stretched across his face as he twirled his wand between his fingers, his free hand coming up from his arm rest when you got close enough and running across the skin of your thigh. The blond��s eyebrow twitched slightly at the feeling of the lace trim of your negligee, and his fingers tightened against your pillowy flesh, pushing the skirt upwards with intrigue until your hand stopped him in his tracks. You smirked deviously at the success of your plan so far before climbing into his lap, pressing all of your weight down on his already half-stiff member so he could feel just how hot and needy you were for him.

Ominis groaned lightly at the sudden warmth atop his hardening cock, his hands coming up to grasp at your hips and rock you slightly for that delicious friction he craved. Your breath stuttered in your chest at your bare, sensitive skin rubbing against the unforgiving roughness of his corduroy trousers and you quickly lost yourself in the moment. One of your hands made its way into his blond tresses, mussing up his perfectly styled quiff and pulling him closer for a searing kiss. He eagerly responded to your whims, surrendering under your burning lips and digging his fingertips into the silk that draped across your body. His left hand began exploring as you kissed, roaming up from the love handles at your hips and towards your neck, pausing briefly to paw at your breast and finding nothing underneath your new nightdress. He bit your lip roughly, pulling you back by your neck and greedily sucking in the oxygen that he forgoed to continue snogging you.

Even after years, his kisses still tasted like ambrosia to a mortal.

He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?”

You giggled lightly, a lilt of mischievousness hiding behind the sound of pseudo virtue that made Ominis’ heart skip in excitement. You pushed gently against his hand, signaling that you wanted to whisper your desires in his ear, and he pulled you towards his face again, loosening his grip enough for it to be just the right amount of malleable. Your hot breath fanned across the apples of his cheeks, sending a spark of desire down his spine. A part of him wanted to disregard whatever you wanted to tell him, wanted to throw you onto his desk and have his way with you. But, there was a stronger, more curious part of him that also wanted to know what you had in store.

You bit lightly at his earlobe, licking away the pain before murmuring against his pulse. “I want to try something new tonight, if it’s alright with you, darling.”

He growled at your fingernails wracking up and down his clothed arms, the bone just sharp enough to be felt but not enough to leave marks. He pulled your face back, staring into your eyes with an unnerving amount of contact that one with his disability would normally not be able to achieve. There was something tantalizing swirling in his irises, something dangerous, something devious, and you had to steel yourself to continue with your scheme and not drop to your knees and pleasure him then and there. His smile was lopsided and delicious looking when he replied.

“What do you have in mind, little dove?” He traced his finger up the outside of your thigh once more, running the pad of his thumb against the coarse lace. “What devilish thing is swirling in that gorgeous brain of yours?”

You let go of his arms, trusting Ominis to hold you still while you reached into your hair and undid the ribbon holding it up. The black silken cloth caught on the low lamplight of the office space and swallowed the glow like a deep pit of tar. Your hand was delicate as you grasped onto his wrist, lifting his hand from your thigh and raising it level with your chest, palm up towards the ceiling. You first ran the ribbon lightly along his hand, letting the ends tickle his skin just enough to catch his fancy before carefully laying it in his palm. His other hand released your throat finally, taking the other end of the ribbon between his fingers and pulling it until it was completely unraveled between your buzzing bodies. It was smooth in his palm, sensual, one would even say. He approximated that it was around the length of his arm, possibly the width of your wrist.

A look of confusion quickly took over the blond’s features, and you chuckled softly at how adorable he looked. You took the silk from him, leaning forward just enough to gently drape it over his unseeing eyes and whisper against his parted lips.

“I want to feel what you feel when I touch you.”

He gasped against your mouth, his arm snaking around your hip and pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer until your ravenous core was flush with his throbbing manhood. Ominis’ smile was all teeth when you pulled back again, the ribbon dragging against his skin in the most delectable way as you gazed into his eyes.

“Oh, you do, now?” He mused cheekily. “You want to know how I feel when you touch me?”

He took the silk from your hands, letting it run over your exposed collarbones. There was something impish in his smile, like a wolf in sheep's clothing— the cheshire cat would be jealous of its verisimilitude. He was always mischievous in nature while at school, but he had never really brought it under the sheets with you. Perhaps your proposition excited him in a way unfamiliar, you mused. Gently moving it over the backs of your shoulders, he looped it around the front and draped it across your chest like a loose fitting scarf. It was your turn to be perplexed when his hands began to wind around the ends of the satin ribbon, the question only being answered after a maddening pause. Using the silk for leverage, Ominis yanked you closer until your chests were pressed together, noses brushing and mouths inches from touching.

“You want to know how it feels to be blind— completely under the whim of your partner? You want to put your faith entirely in my hands, not knowing what I could possibly do to you next?” His voice lowered with arousal, taking on a gravely, almost growl-like cadence. “You want to surrender yourself to me?”

You sucked in a shaking breath at his insinuation, nodding minutely as your eyes fluttered closed. You were far past coherent sentences at that point. His mouth only inched closer with each word.

“Oh, my darling girl, your wish is my command.”

He stole your breath with his kiss, his skin feeling like pure sunlight under your fingertips. He stood from his seat with you in his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he made his way towards your bedroom via the route he memorized long ago.

Your comforter is plush when you land, cushioning you as Ominis rests his body above yours. You pull him downwards by his collar, your hands only getting a small moment in his hair before he has you by the wrists, one of his hands roughly planting them above your head while the other explored your curves. Only a minute in his domain and you were already his prey. The blond leaned forwards slightly, his back arching so he could reach your supple, sensitive throat, before nipping and sucking at the webbing between your shoulder and neck. You keened softly, rolling your hips upwards to meet his gentle hip trusts. He let go of your wrists, trusting you to keep them there as he carded his hands down your sides, only stopping when he got to the teasing lace of your negligee’s trim. More and more kisses were pressed to the column of your throat as he smoothed the fabric up your body, revealing your bare, naked body underneath to the world. He groaned at the feeling of your baby-soft skin under his fingertips.

“Nothing underneath? Such a good girl for me.”

You felt Ominis reach into his back pocket for his wand, slowly bringing it forwards and above your heads. The point just barely touched the skin of your wrist when he lazily whispered the binding spell.

“Incarcerous.”

Cotton rope the color of the forest at night wrapped itself around your conjoined wrists, tightening just the right amount so that you couldn’t move but you weren’t in pain before winding around a bar on your headboard. A startled gasp fell from your lips at your sudden capture, your eyes filling with excitement and a little bit of fear at the predatory grin stretching across your husband's face. His hands trailed up your sides again, sending delightful shivers through all of your nerve endings on his journey to your eyes. His fingers paused at the tips of your ears, the ribbon brushing against where your hair was fanned across the bedspread.

Ominis smoothed his thumb across your cheekbone, softening his smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. His voice was little more than a breathy whisper against your eyelashes. “Are you sure about this, my love?”

You smiled at his care for you, pressing a soft kiss to the closest bit of skin you could reach before answering him, your voice flooded with love. “Yes, my dear. I want you to do whatever you want to me. Make me feel like you do.”

He groaned at your words, taking your consent to wrap the ribbon around your head, tying it in a simple knot at the back. The last thing you saw were his starlight-filled eyes before your world was bathed in darkness.

You were incredibly aware of your level of undress when Ominis moved his body away from yours, opening up your skin to the chill of the room without his body heat. You squirmed against the rope slightly, testing its strength before trying to train your ears to hear your husband moving around the room. Everything was eerily quiet— not even the sound of the grandfather clock in the hallway could be heard beyond the closed door. For a moment you feared the blond left you in the room, leaving you tied up against the bed so he could work in peace. Your heart began to pound harder in your chest with nerves.

All fear quickly fled from your body at the feeling of his fingertips running up the skin of your stomach, drawing a long gasp from your chest. It felt like his hand was touching every nerve in your body, igniting your veins in sinful fire as he crept up and up towards your heaving breasts. He started off slow, just moving his fingers up and down different parts of your body with just the barest touch until you were begging for more. This type of teasing was torturous for you, only just aware of where he was but never knowing if he was going to give you what you wanted.

You whined in the back of your throat, body vibrating with need as he grazed against your chest for a fifth time. “Please, Ominis!”

You were sure your heart would give out when his other hand wrapped itself around your left mound, squeezing the skin between his fingers before taking the right nub between his teeth and nipping. Ominis chuckled at the whine that spilled from your throat, his voice reverberating through your sternum and sending a lovely heat to your center. He let the rest of his weight fall on top of you, relishing in you feeling every bit of skin he had uncovered in your small moment of silence. He was completely bare for you, his hardness pressing against your thigh and pulsating with a delicious heat. You could feel him everywhere. His fingers brushed against the very fabric of your being, pulling you apart by your strings. His breath curled around your lungs, stealing the air frantically inhaled through your squeezing throat. His mouth licked at your brain, sending pulses of pleasure down to your core. You were in utter bliss under his careful, loving hands.

He laughed again at how pliable you were under him, murmuring against your stiff peak. “Where do you feel me right now, pet?”

You sighed shakily as his voice shot through you like a bullet. “Everywhere. I feel you absolutely everywhere.”

The blond took your nipple between his teeth again, flicking it with his tongue until your reacting whimper pittered off into the air. “That’s how I feel whenever I’m around you.”

Ominis began to kiss down your chest, pausing to mouth hotly at your hip bones and leave open mouthed kisses on your naval. “Your mere presence shifts the air around me— changes the trajectory of time itself in my mind. The world slows when you touch me, my darling. My name falling from your lips feels like one thousand tiny suns kissing my cheeks in devotion.”

He mumbled your name against your lower stomach, hopelessly inflamed by how you shivered at the word.

Unable to resist his carnal desires any longer, he dives into your sweet tasting center, first licking a long stripe from base to tip before lapping at you like he was starved and you were his only source of sustenance. You keened loudly for him as stars filled every space behind your blinded eyes.

There he is, you thought. There’s his tongue wrapped around my soul, stealing all my life force one flick at a time.

He moaned at your scent, fully slotting himself between your legs and encasing his head between your thighs. It felt like his tongue was a lightning bolt against your sensitive skin, shocking your clit with every stroke, every tap, every suck. You completely surrendered to his whim, clamping your thighs against his ears, fully intent on keeping him right where he was for the rest of time. It had never felt this good before, never felt this encompassing.

Ominis pressed his face deeper into you, taking the button at the top of your most private parts and sucking it into his mouth. You nearly screamed, your words jumbled as they launched themselves into the air.

“Fuck! Oh God, Ominis!”

His strong hands pulled your legs away from his head, his mouth unlatching from you like a leech as he paused to catch his breath.

“Oh, is it a ‘God’ you want, precious?”

His voice had never sounded breathier— never sounded so completely sinful.

The blond laughed, a barking thing that sent a tingle to your toes. “I do not care if every single God and Goddess across all of the world, all of mythology was fighting over you— you are mine.”

He bit harshly at the pillowy flesh of your inner thigh, indenting his teeth marks into you so everyone would know you were owned by him and him alone.

“But if you truly wish for something devout, something reverent, then let my hands be your chapel.” Ominis gently ran his fingernails along the skin of your waist, dragging them up and down until you were a shivering, wiggling mess. “And I will treat your screams, your whimpers, your pleas as my scripture.”

His unseeing eyes never left the direction of your heady, breathy pants as his middle finger slid deep inside of you, long and lithe and curling against the spot that made you believe religion was real. Moans of his name and swears that would make even the devil blush swam in the air around the pair of you, only being swallowed by the plush feather-down comforter under your writhing body. You plead with your husband for more, unsure what more entailed but all the more pressing your center against his awaiting mouth once again and grinding against his tongue. He quickly complied, pressing a second finger into your opening and thrusting in and out at a sped up pace. His lips latched back onto your needy clit and that was all it took for you to spill over into maddening nirvana.

Your hazy mind picked up on the feeling of your husband leaning up on his elbows, kissing his way back up your chest until he reached your gasping lips. He quickly stole them in a gentle but desperate kiss; you could taste yourself on his lips and it drove you even further into madness. His prickly, end of the day stubble rubbed against your cheek as he tucked his face into your neck, kissing up and down your shoulder and neck with urgency.

“You did so good for me, sweetheart. So, so perfect— just for me, so good just for me.” He was breathing even heavier than you against your pulse, hopelessly devoted to your pleasure, your happiness.

He kissed your pulse, his whispered voice filled with adoration.“Mon coeur.”

He kissed your nose this time. “Mon âme.”

Finally, he pressed delicate kisses to your eyelids, resting his forehead against yours. “Ma vie.”

My heart. My soul. My life.

Warmth filled your entire body, your heart squeezing around his words and committing this moment to memory. Never before had you felt so loved, so worshiped. It was iridescent, the way you could picture his love-struck smile glowing behind your eyes— completely and irrevocably arduous.

Still feeling his burning desire against your inner thigh, you rocked your hips against his, pleas beginning to spill from you once again, but this time with a need to please him.

“Please, Ominis. I love you so much. Take me. Use me. I’m yours, no one else's. I want to feel you inside of me.”

He bit your shoulder roughly, muffling his animalistic grunt before unlatching his jaws and leaning up on his knees. The blond spread your legs wider, lifting your hips slightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he lined up with your entrance. You mewled at the feeling of his head rubbing against your opening, stretching you out slightly and giving you a taste for what was to come.

Ominis whimpered at the feeling of your soft heat against his cock, a little bit of his original domineering persona slipping away at how welcoming you felt for him. “I love you too, my dove.”

With no other words, the blond pressed his hips closer to yours, letting his length slide into your sweltering center bit by bit to not overwhelm you. You could feel every curve of his shaft, every vein along the underside without your sense of sight. Your touch was heightened to its full extent, and it was earth shattering how good this felt. You were simultaneously freezing and burning, living and dying. Your souls could have mingled together and entwined along your timelines with a burning pyre, thrusting you both into every lifetime possible to relive this moment over and over and it would never be enough for you. You both moaned in tandem when your hips became flushed once again, pelvis bones pressing into each other for a delectable friction.

Ominis paused to catch his breath, little tiny moans breaching his lips between each inhale and exhale. His fingers wrapped around your hips, grasping onto your natural handles there as he growled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear with your slightly heightened sense of hearing.

“I am going to make you feel so full, so pleasured, that by the time your climax sends you into oblivion the only word that will be able to grace your lips will be my name.”

With that, he pulled out of you until only his tip was still inside and slammed into you, his hips harshly knocking against yours and his slit kissing your cervix. You wailed into the night as he continued to pound into you, chasing his own pleasure while still being perceptive of yours. In and out he went, the large prominent vein at the base of his lovely cock rubbing against the ridges inside of you in the most heavenly way. Your sounds sang together like an otherworldly chorus, your tones rising and falling in harmony as they floated delicately up towards the ceiling. Ominis’ hands continued to dig into your skin, his fingers surely leaving bruises on your hips that would last for days. You didn’t care in the slightest— all you could feel was bliss. If you thought earlier was pleasurable, this was pure, unfiltered ecstasy. The knot in your stomach tightened with each thrust of your husband's hips, each time taking him to the hilt and sending blinding whiteness behind your useless eyes.

The blond’s hips stuttered as his orgasm fast approached, yours not far behind as he could tell by how tightly you were squeezing him. He surged forwards towards your face, capturing your lips in a kiss that was more teeth than anything else as he rocked the entire bed with his velocity. The headboard banged harshly against the wall as he swallowed your moans and screams, only the sound of his name breaching through the jumbled nonsense. Ominis nosed at your jaw, groaning next to your ear as his thrusts got sloppier and less rhythmic.

“Come for me, my love— my life.”

The instinctual, innate love he had for you was what ultimately did you in, his words ricocheting you into the strongest rapture you had felt in some time. Your husband followed soon after, your name conjoining with his as you both tumbled into the sweet hereafter.

Your breaths tangled together as you both came down from your high. Ominis was the first to break the spell, pulling out of you gently before getting up and procuring a towel from your adjoining bathroom. He cleaned you like one would dust a prized possession, carefully and with reverence. You were like a precious jewel that he had to protect, something he could admire for years, centuries, millennia to come. Next were the bonds on your arms, which he undid with deft fingers. Your arms dropped to the bed in a grand thump, all of your muscles giving up from how hard you were thrashing. Ominis lifted you off the bed, his hands on your shoulders as he slotted himself behind you, letting your back rest against his chest as he finally undid the blindfold. Your eyes squinted at the sudden light of the room, fluttering closed for a moment longer as you relaxed back into your husband. The blond carefully took each of your wrists into his hands, bringing them up to his lips and kissing away the minute bruising. You swooned, perfectly content to stay in this moment until the very end of time— until the world died in a grand ball of fire, or with a tiny poof.

Ominis kissed the side of your temple, rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat. “Was that everything you hoped for, my dear?”

You raised your hand up to his face, softly cradling his cheek in your palm. Pure affection spilled from you both in waves.

“Yes, my heart. You were absolutely perfect.”

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #masterlist #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy mc #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x mc #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis hogwarts legacy #ominis smut #ominis hl #ominis gaunt smut

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mypoisonedvine · 11 months

Note

In dark corners is fucking AMAZING… it’s insane. It’s too good. Died a little on the inside when I saw it’s the only Sirius fic you’ve written. So talented.

I know this technically wasn't a request and you may not even know I was about to do my sleepover but I decided I really ought to write another sirius fic! so, here's a drabble just for you with young!sirius just to mix it up <3

warnings: smut (18+ only please), oral f receiving, a bit of dubcon but it's just hesitance, shy!reader, teasing, sirius being cocky as fuck, discussions of arranged marriage, bi!reader, very brief implied homophobia (not by sirius of course) and mention of blood status discrimination

"Well, they didn't lie," he decided with crossed arms and a tilted head, "you are pretty."

You nervously wrung your hands, glancing down briefly at your leather loafers as they shifted slightly on the study's hardwood floor— freshly waxed, your shoes and the floor. Everything had been prepared so carefully for this moment, the moment that you were meeting the man that might (hopefully) become your husband.

Apparently, they'd told him you were pretty, but you figured that was only part of their long matchmaking speech: a good, pureblooded girl from a respected family, distinguished and ladylike, demure, and at the perfect age to bear children!

You got a speech, too, but you knew half of it was a lie. You'd heard stories about Sirius long before you were taken here to be presented to him: stories of a rebel, a wild young man up to all kinds of things he shouldn't be. It made you even more intimidated to be standing in front of him, watching the way he watched you.

"Th-thank you, sir," you mumbled quietly, finally reacting to his compliment, and he smirked just a bit.

"I hear you've got excellent marks at Hogwarts," he continued, "straight Os, no?"

You got excited to brag about that, and perked up: "Yes, sir," you agreed.

He frowned. "Seems like a waste," he said. You sighed, unsure how you could've disappointed him with that but too afraid to ask. "Don't you get up to any fun?"

You blinked quickly, unsure how to answer. "I read for fun, sir— mostly wizarding history but some stories, too—"

"Why do you keep calling me 'sir'? Do you think I'm your teacher or something?"; when you looked at him again, you realised he was standing closer than you thought. It made you aware of how much taller he was than you, how inquisitive his eyes were, how soft his lips looked—

"I'm sorry— it's just how I was raised, sir— er, Mister Black— I call any man 'sir'..."

"Well, I'm not much of a man, am I?" he noticed, smiling. "Only twenty-one. And you, barely finished with your final year of school— you're hardly a woman."

You swallowed thickly, feeling you'd disappointed him again.

"Your parents assured me, in fact, that no one had... made a woman of you, so to speak," he added. "I knew better than to believe that— parents never know anything. But looking at you now, how nervous you are... I almost could believe it."

Your face got warm, not sure exactly what he meant but certainly getting an idea of the spirit of it.

He stepped closer again, so close you could smell his cologne, and your heartbeat picked up. "So, when I ask what kind of fun you've gotten up to," he continued, voice lowered, "I don't mean reading dusty old tomes."

You dared to look up at him, your lips parting as you tried to think what you should say.

"Look at you," he chuckled mockingly, running his fingers over your jawline, "you've probably never done a naughty thing in your life."

Feeling defensive, you knitted your eyebrows and returned, "Have to!"

You hated how childish you sounded, but he seemed to like it— or at least be amused by it. "Prove it, then," he challenged.

"I— I kissed two different boys this year," you said proudly, and he put on an impressed expression.

"Two boys? In one year? Merlin's beard, what a slut!" he said sarcastically, and even if he was joking you tensed up at that word.

"I... I kissed a girl, too," you added more softly, and he raised his brows. "Eileen Walsh... a girl in my year, a Ravenclaw... it was her idea, but we kissed for a few minutes in a potions closet—"

"Hm, alright," he nodded, finally seeming impressed, "the potions closet is more naughty than the girl-kissing, you know. Where someone could've caught you."

Your face kept getting warmer as your mind split its attention between memories of Eileen— red hair tickling your shoulder, freckled fingers petting over your breasts through your sweater vest, shelves pressing into your back as she pressed into you— and Sirius standing before you now with his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

"If you only like girls, maybe we can make a deal then," he offered. "I'll agree to the marriage and if you want, you can go on kissing girls without any of the worry about your parents, since you've got a nice husband to keep them distracted—"

"N-no, I like boys too," you insisted, "I even... I let one touch me, you know... there."

His smile grew into a wide, toothy grin. "There, huh?"

You nearly jumped when his fingers brushed over your dress, starting at your side and trailing lower slowly— teasingly.

"Will you let me touch you there?" he whispered, lips right against your ear.

"I-if we're to be married," you mitigated, and he gave you a sort of offended look.

"So you'll let students cop a feel, but I can only touch you if we're engaged?" he noticed.

"Yes," you decided, "I should've— I should have never let them— but I was just so—"

"So... desperate," he finished for you as his fingers moved down your your thigh, teasing you with the possibility that he might really reach under your dress. "I can understand that. But if you're supposed to be my wife, I need to really see you, don't I?"

Your thighs pressed together. "See me?"

"Under your dress," he explained; you shivered a little.

"I— our parents are downstairs," you recalled, "in the parlour— if we tried to— they might—"

"Shh, they won't come up," he promised, his hand suddenly dipping under your dress' hem and grabbing onto your thigh; you gasped, your hands reaching up to hold his shoulders as he pet your skin just above the top of your stockings. "They want me to have time alone with you, to decide if I'll finally give in to one of their arrangements. As long as you can keep quiet, they won't know a thing, darling."

Darling. The way that made you bite your lip was proof of how badly you wanted to be his wife already, just to have him call you that again.

His hands suddenly moved up to the back of your dress, unbuttoning it. You definitely shouldn't have let him, but you were charmed in a way much stronger than a literal charm could do— you were already so eager to please him, maybe that was just the raised as much as your compulsion to call him 'sir'.

It wasn't much longer until your dress was on the floor around your loafers, and you were left in your bra and panties, plus the stockings of course.

"Saving yourself for marriage with a body like this," he clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "Now that's a shame."

"I'm sure my husband will appreciate that I waited for him," you decided, though your voice sounded shaky and breathless in a way you hadn't expected.

You gasped as he pushed you up against the credenza behind you, shoving some things off and out of the way so he could sit you on it and spread your legs. "Maybe I do," he admitted.

"S-so, you want to agree to the arrangement, then?" you realised, looking down at him with wide eyes.

He smiled at you, starting to hook a finger into your panties to pull them to the side. "If you please me," he bargained.

And a moment later, he dove in with a sloppy, hungry kiss to your cunt; whining right away, you found yourself arching your back up off the wall and tangling your fingers into his hair. "S-sirius!" you sighed. "I— oh, we shouldn't be— can't it wait until—?"

"Couldn't fucking wait," he responded before you'd finished (not that there was any hope of you getting that sentence out), mumbling against your sensitive skin. "Had to taste you, darling."

Every time he licked up your cunt, your whole body shook— you really had no excuse for being so sensitive, maybe it was all your nerves since you'd gotten to the Black residence... maybe it was that you'd been waiting far too long for someone to really pleasure you like this.

He hummed happily against you, moaned even, as he took tight grip of your thighs and suckled harder at your swelling clit.

"Oh, fuck—" you whimpered, feeling him smile when you said a bad word.

Apparently hoping to hear it again, he slipped two fingers inside you like it was nothing at all— because it was, with how wet you were.

"Fuck!" you yelped, fulfilling his wish, and he shut his eyes as he used his fingers and mouth in perfect harmony to absolute drown you in pleasure; it was only this one small portion of your body he was touching, but you felt it all over you— gooseflesh, waves of shivers and shocks, your toes curling inside your fucking stupid loafers.

"Not too loud, darling," he reminded you with a smirk, breaking away from your clit but keeping his fingers twisting inside you.

"Oh, shut up," you hissed, grabbing him by the hair and guiding him back to his work. He could've punished you for your insolence if he wanted, taken his fingers away and only given teasing licks to your bud until you apologised, but instead he just smiled proudly and got back to it— if anything he was more aggressive than before, guiding you right to the edge as he speared his fingers harder and faster into you. "I'm— fuck, m'close, Sirius, please don't stop— g'na come, please—"

He moaned against you— what a lovely sound that was— and kept going even more fiercely until it all cracked and you were melting onto that credenza: drips of arousal ran down his hand and chin, down your thighs to stain your stocks, and he lapped at them with eager abandon.

"F-fuck, wait," you whimpered when it all became too much at once, pushing him away by that thoroughly-mussed mop of chestnut hair. He grinned up at you with a slick, shining smile, and you felt a bit embarrassed as you sobered up enough to realise how whorish you'd really been.

"Yes, I think this will make for a fun engagement," he deciding, still panting, still on his knees before you. "But, let's get you dressed before we tell the parents."

#30k sleepover #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #request #marauders sirius x reader

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highpriestessarchives · 2 months

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The Reluctant Ruler Trope: A Philosophical Inquiry into Unwanted Power, Responsibility, and the Burden of Leadership

WC: 3,489

Index

Introduction The Reluctant Ruler in Literature and Folklore The Existential Dilemma of Unwanted Authority Political Implications and the Burden of Responsibility A Special Case or a Universal Relatability? Closing Words

Introduction

“The world is something that was put into your hands and that you must deal with - so you will. You have a rigid back and steady hands, either metaphorically or physically. Is it nature or nurture? You don't know. You are tired of being steady. You dream of feeling alive. Not that you aren’t, but, sometimes, it’s hard to remember that there is a heart between your ribs.” —“Are You A Soldier, Poet, or A King?” quiz by @atlanticsea

Does anyone here remember the “Soldier, Poet, King” quiz that went around about a year or so ago? When I initially took it, I expected “Poet;” you can imagine my surprise when the “King” result absolutely obliterated my mental health.

As I’ve found, a common theme in my writing is the Reluctant Ruler trope, where either 1) a character is thrust into the role of a savior, hero, or king/queen despite not having any wish to lead people or 2) a character assumes the role of a leader without the full understanding of the morally corrupting demands of the job.

The narrative trope of the Reluctant Ruler has long captivated the human imagination, resonating across cultures and epochs. From mythical tales of kings and queens reluctant to ascend the throne to contemporary narratives of reluctant heroes and leaders, this archetype speaks to fundamental questions about the nature of power, responsibility, and the human condition. But what makes this trope such a tragic and believable character? How do we, as an audience, end up relating to and debating the conflicts and moral dilemmas that these characters face? Today, we embark on a philosophical inquiry into the Reluctant Ruler trope, aiming to uncover its deeper meanings and implications within existential and political philosophical discourse.

The Reluctant Ruler in Literature and Folklore

The archetype of the reluctant ruler is deeply embedded in the narratives of literature and folklore, transcending cultural and historical boundaries. Across diverse traditions, tales abound of individuals thrust into positions of leadership against their will, grappling with the weight of power and the burdens of governance.

Shakespeare’s “Hamlet:” One of the most iconic depictions of the Reluctant Ruler can be found in William Shakespeare's timeless tragedy, “Hamlet.” Prince Hamlet, the melancholic protagonist, is suddenly confronted with the task of avenging his father’s murder and assuming the throne of Denmark. Despite being heir to the throne, Hamlet is plagued by doubt, indecision, and existential angst. His famous soliloquy, “To be, or not to be,” encapsulates the profound existential crisis he faces, torn between the demands of duty and the desire for personal authenticity. Hamlet’s reluctance to embrace his role as king stems not only from fear or cowardice but from a profound skepticism about the legitimacy of authority and the corrupting influence of power.

The Arthurian Legend: In the rich tapestry of Arthurian legend, the motif of the Reluctant Ruler is exemplified in the character of King Arthur himself. According to some versions of the myth, Arthur is initially unaware of his royal lineage and is raised as a commoner by Sir Ector. Upon discovering his true identity and rightful claim to the throne, Arthur reluctantly accepts the mantle of kingship, guided by the wise counsel of Merlin and the moral imperative to uphold justice and chivalry. Despite his noble intentions, Arthur grapples with the burdens of leadership, facing betrayals, challenges to his authority, and the tragic consequences of his own choices. His reluctance to embrace his destiny as king reflects the ambivalence inherent in assuming power and the moral ambiguities of governance.

The Biblical Story of Moses: In the Abrahamic traditions, the narrative of Moses provides another compelling example of the Reluctant Ruler trope. According to the Book of Exodus, Moses is initially an ordinary Israelite that ran from his station as a prince of Egypt, content to live as a shepherd in the wilderness. However, when called upon by God to lead his people out of bondage in Egypt, Moses initially resists, citing his own inadequacies and speech impediment. Despite his reluctance, Moses eventually accepts the divine mandate and becomes the revered leader of the Israelites, guiding them through the trials of the Exodus and delivering the Ten Commandments at Mount Sinai. Moses’s reluctance to assume leadership underscores the theme of human frailty and the transformative power of faith and divine providence.

The Existential Dilemma of Unwanted Authority

Despite not having instances in our lives where we are unexpectedly crowned king or being spoken to by a deity, there are still profound lessons in identity and responsibility that we can pull from these characters.

The Anguish of Freedom and Responsibility

Existentialist philosophers such as Jean-Paul Sartre asserted that “existence precedes essence,” emphasizing the radical freedom and responsibility of human beings to define their own meaning and purpose in a seemingly indifferent universe. For the Reluctant Ruler, this existential freedom becomes a source of anguish and uncertainty. Suddenly endowed with authority and influence, they are confronted with the weight of responsibility and the moral implications of their actions. The existential angst of the reluctant ruler arises from the tension between the desire for autonomy and the demands of duty, as they struggle with the paradox of being simultaneously free and bound by social expectations.

Furthermore, with freedom comes the moral imperative to act responsibly and ethically. The Reluctant Ruler, however, finds themselves burdened with the weight of moral decision-making, as they navigate complex ethical dilemmas and confront the consequences of their actions. Existentialist philosophy emphasizes the inherent responsibility of individuals to create their own moral framework and to confront the ethical implications of their choices with honesty and integrity. The anguish of responsibility lies in the tension between the desire for moral clarity and the recognition of the inherent ambiguity and uncertainty of ethical decision-making. The reluctant ruler must contemplate on the ethical complexities of their role, striving to uphold their moral principles amidst the exigencies of power and governance.

Authenticity and Self-Deception

Central to the existential dilemma of unwanted authority is the quest for authenticity (we already knew this; I wrote two posts on authenticity already that you can check out here and here)—the authentic expression of one’s true self and values in the face of external pressures and expectations. The Reluctant Ruler may experience profound existential alienation as they navigate the demands of their role, questioning whether they are living in accordance with their own genuine desires and beliefs or merely conforming to societal norms and conventions.

In fact, they may be tempted to resort to self-deception—to deceive themselves and others about the true nature of their actions or motivations. Existentialist philosophy warns against the dangers of inauthenticity and self-delusion, highlighting the existential crisis that arises from living inauthentically and betraying one’s own values. The Reluctant Ruler may succumb to the pressures of their position, rationalizing their actions or compromising their principles in order to maintain power or avoid conflict. Self-deception becomes a means of coping with the existential anguish and moral dilemmas inherent in their role, providing a false sense of security and comfort amidst the uncertainties of leadership.

Self-deception ultimately leads to existential alienation—the estrangement from one’s authentic self and the sense of disconnection from the world. The Reluctant Ruler who succumbs to self-deception finds themselves adrift in a sea of moral ambiguity and existential angst, unable to reconcile their actions with their inner convictions.

The Absurdity of Human Existence

“The Absurdity of Human Existence” is a philosophical concept rooted in existentialist thought, particularly articulated by philosophers such as Albert Camus and Jean-Paul Sartre. It posits that human life is inherently absurd, devoid of inherent meaning or purpose, and characterized by the fundamental tension between the human desire for meaning and the indifferent, chaotic nature of the universe.

In assuming positions of power unwillingly, the Reluctant Ruler confronts the absurdity of their situation, grappling with the arbitrary nature of authority and the futility of their efforts to impose order and control upon a chaotic world. The absurdity of leadership lies in the recognition of its inherent limitations and the inevitability of failure and impermanence. Despite their best intentions, the Reluctant Ruler may find themselves overwhelmed by their predicament, struggling to find meaning and significance in a world devoid of ultimate purpose.

Here is where another familiar element of existence comes into play: the illusion of control. The illusion of control is a psychological concept that refers to the tendency of individuals to overestimate their ability to influence or control events, particularly in situations characterized by uncertainty or randomness.

For the Reluctant Ruler, the illusion of control becomes apparent as they assume positions of power unwillingly and attempt to impose order and control upon a world that defies their efforts. Despite their best intentions, they soon come to realize the inherent unpredictability and uncontrollability of the events and circumstances they face. This recognition challenges their preconceived notions of authority and power, revealing the illusory nature of their perceived control.

The Reluctant Ruler may initially believe that they have the ability to shape the course of events and influence outcomes according to their will. However, as they encounter resistance, opposition, and unforeseen challenges, they begin to understand the limitations of their authority and the unpredictable nature of the world they seek to govern. This realization undermines their confidence and exposes the fragility of their sense of control.

Moreover, the illusion of control can lead the Reluctant Ruler to engage in behaviors and strategies aimed at maintaining the illusion of power, even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary. They may resort to authoritarian measures, manipulation, or denial of reality in an attempt to assert their authority and preserve their sense of control. However, these efforts ultimately prove futile, further reinforcing the absurdity of their situation.

The existential implications of the illusion of control lie in its confrontation with the fundamental unpredictability and contingency of human existence. The Reluctant Ruler's quest for control becomes a Sisyphean task, as they strive to impose order upon a world characterized by chaos and uncertainty. In confronting the illusion of control, they are forced to confront the absurdity of their condition and wrestle with the inherent limitations of human agency in the face of existential uncertainty.

Political Implications and the Burden of Leadership

Naturally, we cannot talk about the complexity behind the Reluctant Ruler without diving into those whom they govern. In examining the reluctant ruler trope through the lens of political philosophy, we confront the complex interplay between governance, legitimacy, and the ethical responsibilities of leadership.

Legitimacy and Consent

The concepts of legitimacy and consent are central to theories of political authority, shaping the foundation of governance and the relationship between rulers and the ruled. In the context of the Reluctant Ruler trope, the legitimacy of political authority is called into question, as leaders may assume power unwillingly, without the explicit consent or endorsement of those they govern.

Political theorists have long debated the sources of legitimacy in governance, seeking to identify the basis upon which political authority is justified. Traditionally, legitimacy has been derived from various sources such as divine right, tradition, charisma, or popular consent. However, the assumption of power by a Reluctant Ruler complicates these traditional sources, as their authority may not be grounded in the typical mechanisms of legitimacy. Instead, the legitimacy of the reluctant ruler may be contingent upon factors such as adherence to legal norms, effectiveness in governance, or recognition by key power holders.

In democratic societies, where the principle of popular sovereignty reigns supreme, the consent of the governed is considered foundational to the legitimacy of political authority. Democratic legitimacy is typically understood to derive from the consent of the people, expressed through free and fair elections. However, the Reluctant Ruler challenges this notion, as their assumption of power may not be the result of popular choice or electoral mandate. Or, on the other hand, perhaps it was, indeed, the populace that raised them to their position while they continued to protest and fight against it. This raises questions about the compatibility of their leadership with democratic ideals and the accountability of political institutions to the will of the people.

A Special Case or Universal Relatability?

The Reluctant Ruler archetype, emblematic of individuals thrust into positions of power against their will, serves as a focal point for exploring the intricate interplay between existential realization, political pragmatism, and ethical considerations within the realm of political philosophy and ethical theory. Through the lenses of political philosophers and ethical theorists, such as Niccolò Machiavelli, Hannah Arendt, Immanuel Kant, and Aristotle, we can seek to elucidate the moral spectrum of the Reluctant Ruler, shedding light on the ethical and existential dimensions of their predicament and the broader implications for human nature and governance.

Political Philosophers:

Thinkers such as Niccolò Machiavelli and Hannah Arendt might consider the ethical and political dimensions of the Reluctant Ruler trope. They would examine questions of legitimacy, authority, and the responsibilities of leadership, shedding light on how the Reluctant Ruler’s predicament illuminates broader themes in political philosophy.

Niccolò Machiavelli

Niccolò Machiavelli, a seminal figure in political philosophy, is often associated with political realism, a perspective that emphasizes practical considerations over moral ideals in governance.

Machiavelli’s political realism emphasizes the importance of power dynamics, interests, and strategic calculations in politics. He might argue that the Reluctant Ruler cannot afford to be guided solely by moral principles or existential concerns but must instead prioritize the preservation of authority and the maintenance of order.

For him, the reluctant ruler’s primary concern should be establishing and consolidating their authority, regardless of the circumstances of their ascension to power.

He famously suggests in The Prince that rulers should be prepared to act ruthlessly when necessary, even if it means sacrificing ethical principles.

The ends justify the means in politics, and that the reluctant ruler must be willing to employ any means necessary to achieve their goals.

Ultimately, Machiavelli would likely emphasize the importance of maintaining order and stability as the primary goals of the reluctant ruler. He might argue that the ruler's legitimacy and authority depend on their ability to govern effectively and preserve the social order, even if it requires making difficult decisions or compromises.

Machiavelli might caution against allowing existential angst or moral qualms to undermine the reluctant ruler's ability to govern decisively. He would likely stress the need for pragmatism and flexibility in navigating the complexities of political life.

Hannah Arendt

Hannah Arendt was a prominent political theorist known for her contributions to the understanding of totalitarianism, the nature of power, and the concept of political action.

Arendt would delve into the existential angst experienced by the reluctant ruler, examining how their struggle with assuming power unwillingly reflects broader themes of human existence. She might explore the absurdity of the situation, where individuals find themselves thrust into positions of authority without their consent or desire.

Arendt would likely emphasize the importance of individual conscience in guiding the actions of the reluctant ruler. She might suggest that the ruler's moral integrity is central to their ability to exercise legitimate and effective leadership, even in the face of existential uncertainty.

She might also argue that political action is inherently bound up with questions of ethics and morality, and that the reluctant ruler's existential crisis serves as a catalyst for deeper reflection on the ethical dimensions of governance.

Arendt might caution against sacrificing moral integrity for the sake of pragmatic considerations, suggesting that the Ruler’s adherence to their conscience is ultimately what determines the legitimacy of their leadership.

Ethical Thinkers

Thinkers like Immanuel Kant and Aristotle would likely explore the ethical dilemmas faced by the Reluctant Ruler. They would analyze how the tension between personal ethics and pragmatic considerations shapes the Ruler’s decision-making process, offering insights into human moral psychology and the pursuit of virtuous leadership.

Immanuel Kant

Kant’s deontological ethics emphasizes the importance of moral duty and universal principles in guiding ethical behavior. He would likely analyze the Reluctant Ruler’s predicament by focusing on the categorical imperative, which states that individuals must act according to principles that can be universally applied.

Kant might argue that the Reluctant Ruler faces a moral obligation to uphold certain ethical principles, even if it conflicts with pragmatic considerations. He would emphasize the importance of acting out of a sense of duty and moral integrity, rather than being swayed by expediency or self-interest.

Aristotle

Aristotle’s virtue ethics focuses on the development of moral character and the cultivation of virtuous qualities. He would likely analyze the Reluctant Ruler’s ethical dilemmas by considering how their decisions reflect their moral virtues and character traits.

Aristotle might argue that the reluctant ruler should strive to embody virtues such as courage, wisdom, and justice in their governance. He would emphasize the importance of practical wisdom (phronesis) in navigating the complexities of political life, suggesting that the ruler should aim to achieve eudaimonia, or flourishing, through virtuous leadership.

On Our Nature

Needless to say, not only can we reflect on our own ethical “what-ifs” in parallel to the Reluctant Ruler trope; through this character study, we can unearth a multitude of political and existential debates and still never settle on a universal answer.

The perpetual debates and unanswered questions surrounding the Reluctant Ruler trope speak volumes about human nature and the complexity of individual experiences. At its core, the Reluctant Ruler archetype encapsulates the fundamental tensions between existential realization, ethical responsibility, and political pragmatism, reflecting the intricate interplay of human desires, values, and motivations.

Firstly, the inability to settle on a universal answer regarding the Reluctant Ruler trope underscores the inherent complexity and ambiguity of human existence. Human nature is characterized by its multifaceted makeup, encompassing a diverse range of perspectives, beliefs, and experiences. The reluctance of individuals to embrace leadership roles speaks to our innate desire for autonomy, authenticity, and personal fulfillment, as well as our inherent susceptibility to doubt, uncertainty, and existential angst. The analyses surrounding the Reluctant Ruler trope reflect the diversity of human experiences and the myriad ways in which individuals examine with questions of identity, purpose, and morality.

Moreover, the fact that many individuals can relate to the Reluctant Ruler trope on a personal level speaks to the universality of human struggles and aspirations. Whether it be the fear of assuming responsibility, the desire for authenticity and self-expression, or the ethical dilemmas inherent in leadership, the themes embodied by the Reluctant Ruler resonate with people from all walks of life.

However, the Reluctant Ruler trope also serves as a mirror through which we can reflect on our own ethical convictions, political beliefs, and existential uncertainties. By examining the complexities of this archetype, we are compelled to confront our own values, biases, and assumptions, and to consider how they shape our perceptions of leadership, responsibility, and human nature. The inability to settle on a universal answer regarding the Reluctant Ruler trope challenges us to confront the inherent ambiguity and uncertainty of human existence, prompting us to engage with questions of identity, meaning, and morality in our own lives.

Closing Words

What initially appears as a narrative device in storytelling reveals itself as a mirror reflecting the intricacies of our own ethical frameworks, existential dilemmas, and political realities.

At its essence, the Reluctant Ruler archetype embodies the universal struggle between autonomy and responsibility, authenticity and conformity, freedom and obligation. Yet, beyond the realm of fiction, it prompts us to reflect on our own ethical convictions and existential uncertainties. Are we, too, begrudging in our own lives, navigating the delicate balance between personal desires and societal expectations? Do we confront the existential angst of freedom and responsibility, or do we succumb to the illusion of control and self-deception?

Moreover, the Reluctant Ruler challenges us to examine the legitimacy of political authority and the ethical responsibilities of leadership. In a world where governance is often characterized by power struggles and moral ambiguities, how do we reconcile the demands of pragmatism with the imperatives of justice and integrity? How do we ensure that those in positions of power govern with wisdom, virtue, and compassion?

Ultimately, the Reluctant Ruler trope serves as a catalyst for introspection and dialogue, inviting us to confront the complexity of human nature and the ethical dimensions of governance. As we scrutinize the unresolved questions and perpetual debates surrounding this archetype, we are reminded of the enduring relevance of philosophy in our quest for understanding, meaning, and ethical clarity.

In the end, the Reluctant Ruler challenges us not only to ponder the existential dilemmas of fictional characters but also to confront the ethical complexities of our own lives and societies. It is through this introspective journey that we may gain deeper insights into the nature of leadership, autonomy, and the human condition, and perhaps, find a path towards a more just, compassionate, and authentic world.

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kinkalot · 9 months

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Bonus Challenge #1 - Bare Basics

The first of our Kinkalot 2023 Bonus Challenges - this challenge is open to EVERYONE.

Our bonus challenge for Week 1 is all about the bare necessities.

For writers, that means dialogue only! Your challenge is to get us hot and bothered without the use of dialogue tags, description or action of any kind (and yes, text format is welcome for this challenge!).

For artists, we want to see EITHER line art OR monochrome creations. It doesn’t have to be black and white, so long as you pick one colour and stick with it. The choice is yours in this week’s bonus challenge!

Just remember; for this challenge less is more!

REMINDER: This challenge is open to EVERYONE. You don’t need to be a participant of the fest to join in. So if this challenge has turned your head, why not come along and share your entry over on our LJ Post / Over in our Bonus Challenge channel on our Discord server (18+ only)!

#merlin #merlin fests #merlin fanfic #merlin fanart #merlin edits #kinkalot #kinkalot 2023 #merlin prompt challenge #kinkalot : bonus challenge 1

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delcakoo · 2 years

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captain ‘puff | n.rk

✶ PAIRING ! slytherin!niki x hufflepuff!fem!reader

✶ GENRE ! bantering and fluff (?)

✶ WC ! 2.2k

✶ WARNINGS ! none just niki being a cocky mf and yn being a badass

✶ SUMMARY ! you agree to answer a troublemaking slytherin’s questions only if he can block your shots in a quidditch 1v1, too bad he didn’t ask if you were hufflepuff’s team captain..

a/n: niki fr wore a slytherin outfit in the middle of me writing this. the scream i let out.. btw you don’t need to know HP to read this, you’ll catch on quick!

quidditch was easy! from the sidelines, the wizard sport seemed simple enough. every player had their own designated role to follow, and a position to be in. what was so hard about throwing a giant red ball into a hoop, or smoking people in the heads with bowling balls?

you quickly stopped thinking those things during your first game on the hufflepuff team, when you were so focused on watching the quaffle, that you didn’t notice the bludger being thrown right at your shoulder, immediately knocking you off your broom and back onto the bench.

that day, you learned the key to quidditch was multitasking.

you have a quaffle and your fellow chasers to look out for, but also the beaters looking for the perfect moment to strike you out of the air. wait, the enemy chasers are suddenly right in front of you! oh and there’s the seekers coming straight at you because it seems you’re in the way of the golden snitch and suddenly the quaffle in your hand is stolen and your teammate is yelling at you to watch out because a bludger is skyrocketing right at your—

get it now?

even with all these intimidating factors in mind, you’re never one to turn down a challenge. if you aren’t good at something, that wouldn’t be the case for very long due — hours of practice every single day brought one thing to another, and you found yourself — once a benchwarmer — now proudly the captain of the hufflepuff team, only a couple months later.

you could label yourself as an overachiever.

hufflepuff hasn’t had a female captain in decades, and it only made you feel prouder of your new leading title. while the other houses seemed to still doubt your house’s quidditch abilities, you had full confidence that with you as the new captain, your team would destroy all of them in the upcoming tournament this year. hufflepuffs were known for having a propensity for hard work, and a strong sense of justice, after all.

the quidditch arena looked ethereal. the sun reflected off the giant, golden hoops perfectly, and the usually unkept grass was now neatly trimmed and blooming. holding your broom tightly, you breath in the fresh air while using a free hand to pull your quaffle out of your bag. thank merlin classes had at last finished for the day, giving you the chance to use the remaining time for practise.

you swiftly hop onto your broom, zooming off towards the shining rings. you imagine the keeper in front of you, which way should you juke? how should you position your broom? it was a thrilling experience, even when alone.

you fake a throw to the left hoop, angling your broom along with you to seem more believable, before suddenly spinning completely and aiming for the right hoop.

you’d been working out lately, especially your arms. being able to watch the quaffle slam through the golden ring at full force was like a reward for all the muscle building. you grin, diving under to grab your ball.

that was, until you look down and see a boy with fluffy black hair catch your quaffle, smirking over at you.

he’s handsome, you recognise. he has a cute mole under his left eye like many others scattered across his features, and his plump, pink lips were being moistened by his tongue as he inspected you. his ears are pierced with small, silver hoops, and his green tie was nearly falli–

green tie. your eyebrows furrow, lips turning down at the ends as you take another closer look at him.

ah, nishimura riki. this boy was known for constantly getting into trouble and causing havoc throughout the castle with his friends, ever the prankster. though, you also recall him being one of, if not slytherin’s best keeper.

“get your hands off my ball, snake,” you call out, flying down to match his level.

his smirk grows as he eyes you, lazily throwing the quaffle over to you while resting against his broom. “that wasn’t too bad, princess.”

you scoff at the nickname, catching it with one hand and securely tucking it under your arm. “why were you watching me practise?”

niki shrugs, “i came here to practise too,” he eyes your chest, raising a brow at your missing tie. you ignore him, flying over to the other side of the arena to continue your drills.

like an annoying mosquito, he follows close behind. “i’ve never seen you before, what house are you? clearly not slytherin.”

contrary to belief, it was actually great to know you were once so invisible the other team didn’t even remember you. this would only make it more fun to claim victory against them this season as the new captain.

“nice catch, sherlock. i’m trying to practise, if you don’t mind.” you deadpan, holding your quaffle and preparing another throw. you had no interest in talking to your opponents on the court, especially not a troublemaking slytherin boy.

on the other hand, niki is utterly fascinated by you. normally, the girls fell to his feet at just a smirk or a simple wave. but here you, whoever you were, completely ignoring his existence.

it only motivated him to keep bothering you.

he watches as you throw once again, whipping the quaffle impressively fast into the middle ring. “it’s a shame you aren’t slytherin, we need a good new chaser. you must be gryffindor to be this decent, then.” you only roll your eyes at his rude, false assumption.

he continues to trail behind you as you dive down to grab your ball. “i have a suggestion.” you huff at his determination, flying back up before the hoops once again. you make eye contact as he chases after you, and you couldn’t deny the fact that this boy was stupidly appealing to the eye.

you do your best to ignore this fact by directing your attention back to your quaffle. “i’m a keeper, so how about we practise together? but everytime i block one of your shots, you have to answer one of my questions.”

you sigh at that, throwing your quaffle into the air before catching it again. this could be a good opportunity to learn his technique for the real games. “and when i score?”

he grins cutely, “well, what do you want, princess?”

again with that damn nickname. you huff. “stop calling me that. and i suppose the same thing as you.”

the slytherin immediately grows his damn smirk again at your words, cockily raising a brow. “you wanna get to know me huh? am i that handsome?”

you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief at his confidence. “if that helps you sleep at night, sure.” you nod over to the hoops. “i’m waiting.”

niki quickly flies over to the three goals, cracking his knuckles. he didn’t know why, but he was feeling very competitive. he wanted to impress you, and he definitely wanted to win those answers. “give it your best shot.”

“oh i will, nishimura.” you reply, before taking off towards him as fast as you could.

his eyes narrow in concentration, watching you closely as you fly to the far right. he follows you to block the right hoop, when you suddenly loop upside down to the left, a move you’d been working on the past few days.

however, you weren’t too surprised when niki caught up to you just as fast, he was titled the best keeper of slytherin for a reason. “you’re not as stupid as i was hoping.” you comment, shooting back towards the right ring.

niki follows you silently, and while you think he’s distracted heading over to the right hoop, you shoot over your shoulder, right into the middle one. it was centimetres from going in, until a gloved hand shoots up and blocks it.

your eyes widen in genuine surprise, watching niki scoop up the quaffle before it touches the ground. he flies back up to you, smirking proudly. “too slow princess, could see you lifting your arm seconds before you shot. gotta work on that throwing speed.”

you growl in annoyance, you couldn’t lose to this asshole. “that was just my warmup, what’s your question?”

niki already had this one planned, “what house are you?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. he was ready to hear gryffindor, or perhaps ravenclaw. but then again, he’s never been so interested in a girl from the nerd house before.

“hufflepuff.” you answer simply.

his eyes go wide in horror, looking at you as if you’d just grown another head. “really?”

you scoff. “it’s despicable how much you underestimate us. you really thought i was gryffindor ‘cause.. what, i’m good at quidditch?”

he shrugs, throwing your quaffle back to you. “everyone knows hufflepuff has been lacking in the quidditch department, just the facts.”

“we’ll see about that next season.” you murmur, gripping the ball tighter before taking off again.

niki seems more laid back than the first time, you recognise in his body language, as if he was confident he could win every round all because of one victory.

small, small minded, you think. just like before, you remind yourself that you’re never one to turn down a challenge, and that a loss was simply a learning experience.

perhaps it was time to bring out some of your more reserved plays that you usually saved for games.

you dash towards him once again, deciding to head for the left ring. he follows you, closely calculating your brooms movements. with no notice, you suddenly fly upwards, leaving a whoosh of confused air behind for your enemy.

niki only grunts at your unsuspected direction change, quickly craning his head up to find you already throwing your quaffle upside down on your broom, right into the middle hoop.

“the fuck was that?!” he calls out, stuck in his spot as he watches you cackle, diving down to collect the ball once again.

“what? you think the only directions i can go are left and right?” you smirk, spinning the quaffle on your finger innocently.

he scowls, “upside down? seriously? there’s no way you’re a newbie, or a hufflepuff!”

you shrug, still giggling at his dumbstruck expression. “now tell me,” you ponder for a moment. while niki was using this little deal to learn about you, you were more interested in something else. “what are the full names of all the new players on your team this year?”

his eyes widen, jaw tightening in frustration, “you know you aren’t allowed to know that until the rosters drop.”

you raise an eyebrow, smirking evilly, “oh really? our little bet says otherwise.” you watch as the grip on his broom tightens, fingers turning white. “are you being a pussy, nishimura? gonna drop out?” you pout in fake sorrow.

he snaps at that, beginning to list a total of six people, eyes staring at you with fire the whole time.

satisfied with your new information, you grin at him. “thanks, wanna stop playing?”

he grits his teeth, determinedly getting back in front of the rings. “you wish.”

two rounds later, niki has found out your name after barely blocking your shot with the tip of his finger. he swears he’s heard it somewhere, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

meanwhile you found out the positions of all the new slytherin players after scoring an amazing goal on the left hoop. you weren’t sure why he didn’t take your strategy and begin asking about the hufflepuff team, but you weren’t complaining.

“next period will be starting soon.” you say, passing the quaffle between your hands. “last round.”

he cracks a grin, “ready when you are, princess.”

little did he know, you had a new plan.

as you take off towards the slytherin boy, instead of juking to a different direction, you continue going straight ahead. niki watches you fly at him with full speed, gulping, “uh, what are you doing?”

as you two are about to collide, you come to a sudden halt. your faces are now inches apart, and you smirk at the nervous, stuttered breath that leaves his parted lips.

you balance on your broom, raising your free hand to cup his jaw, slowly moving forward until your lips are pressed to his. he doesn’t kiss you back for a few seconds, trying to process what was happening until he finally reaches up to your neck, pulling you closer.

too easy.

you open an eye, unravelling the quaffle from your other hand, gently tossing it into the glimmering hoop he’s completely forgotten about before pulling away from the kiss. niki just stares at you in utter shock, rubbing his lips together until the sound of the quaffle hitting the ground snaps him out of his trance.

he turns to see if what he heard was correct, snapping his head back to you.

“i win,” you cockily announce, just as the class bell rings behind you in the castle. “you owe me an answer.” you turn around, beginning to fly off before looking back at him once more. “oh and, get my quaffle for me, will you, nishimura?

niki hates losing. but losing because of a damn kiss was much, much worse. he furiously flies down to grab your ball, jaw dropping in absolute horror when he takes a closer look at the writing spread across it.

“PROPERTY OF L/N Y/N, HUFFLEPUFFS CAPTAIN. RETURN IF FOUND.”

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